


Sealed With a Kiss

by NamelesslyNightlock



Series: Going Down Swinging [95]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Blood Loss, Canon Divergence - Thor: The Dark World, Demon Deals, Demon Summoning, Demon Tony Stark, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Dizziness, Hand Jobs, Healing, Injured Loki (Marvel), Isolation, Kissing, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, M/M, Orgasm, Possessive Behavior, Prisoner Loki (Marvel), Revenge, Rituals, Sex Magic, Smut, Starvation, Tongues, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29063076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Abandoned in a cell and left to die, Loki has only one last, desperate hope– but summoning a demon doesn’t quite turn out the way he expects.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Going Down Swinging [95]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1330490
Comments: 48
Kudos: 374





	Sealed With a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that there is a possible trigger in this fic: Loki cuts his wrist on purpose, though for sake of getting blood to use in a ritual, not as a method of self harm. Please just be aware that this is in here, and close the tab if this is going to bother you.  
>   
> Also, thank you to **BennyBatch** for helping me with the summary!  
>   
>  **Prompt** — _“Are you ready for this?”_

Loki’s hands were shaking, his index and middle fingers trembling as he slid their tips across the white floor of his cell. He knew that he should be more careful, for even the slightest line out of place would spell disaster. But it was difficult not to be nervous. This was his last hope– a desperate, _final_ chance.

He’d been locked in Asgard’s dungeon so very long ago, so long that he’d long since lost track. The last person he had spoken to was the guard who had told him his mother had passed away. And since then, _nothing._

Oh, he knew that Asgard continued on as it always had. Other prisoners had come and gone, and Loki had even seen Thor come to throw a few into the dungeons himself.

But not once did anyone so much as even look at him.

At first, Loki’d thought that maybe they’d discovered his part in his mother’s death, that they’d learned it was he who had told Kurse the way to go. But, even if that were the case…

Surely…

Surely, they would still _feed_ him.

Slowly, Loki began to wonder if his mother had been the one organising his meals. He knew already that she had been the only one to think to bring him some entertainment. And now, with her gone…

It had been so long, likely months without food.

Without contact.

Without _hope._

He was withering away, left to rot in the dungeons.

He knew, as a _J_ _ö_ _tunn_ , this was something his body could survive for a while longer yet. But his mind?

Oh, his mind was on the verge of breaking apart.

It was how he came to think of this last, terrible plan– this last final effort to… well.

If Loki were being honest, he _knew_ there was a strong chance that he wouldn’t survive this, either. But when he was shattering at the seams, going down in a blast of fire and rage seemed preferable to simply withering away.

It would be faster, at least.

So, he’d smashed the furniture his mother had brought him, he’d grasped a thick, sharp splinter, and he’d driven it into his lower arm. Not too close to his arteries, he didn’t want to pass out– he was knowledgeable enough of how to kill that he also knew how to avoid such an outcome. But he did dig the splinter in deep enough to gain a substantial supply of blood, and then, after coating his fingers in it, he began to draw.

The white floor and walls of the cell really were perfect for his needs– the red of his blood shone against the pristine colour in stark relief, and it made it easy for him to paint the exact patterns he needed.

At least… until his fingers began to shake.

The sigils were hardly difficult– after all, the kind of creature he was calling generally _wanted_ to be summoned. Still, the lines needed to be perfect, because if Loki didn’t get it right the punishment would be severe.

But to be careful meant going slow, and the more time Loki took, the harsher the trembling became. He was starting to think that it wasn’t only nerves that was causing it– the blood loss was likely playing a part as well. He had already been so very weak, and now that his blood was painted over the floor and walls…

The last line was finished with a slow, broken stroke, and then Loki’s hand rested flat on the ground as he tried to regain his strength. His breath was already coming in pants, but he managed to slow it slightly before speaking the simple words.

“Please,” he whispered, his Allspeak translating the words into the proper language, his seiðr infusing the simple sentence into something more powerful. “I would like to make a deal.”

The moment the last syllable fell from Loki’s lips, the sigils drawn in his blood began to glow. It wasn’t a bright glow, but something more like a gleam that made the rest of the room appear to darken despite the fact that the light in the dungeons never changed.

“Hello, Asgardian.”

Loki flinched and lifted his head, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of the figure that had appeared before him.

The demon was a little shorter than Loki, though of course Loki knew that meant nothing at all. His entirely pitch-black eyes spoke of power, his dark hair and goatee perfectly framing a face that bore a rather arrogant expression, lips curled in a smirk that sent a shiver up Loki’s spine. The demon had a feel to him that was otherworldly, beautiful in his darkness– and Loki’s lips parted in a soft breath at the sight of him.

“Good day to you,” Loki said, and he tried to keep his voice as steady as he could as he repeated his request. “I need to make a deal.”

“A deal?” The demon’s smile shifted slightly as his gaze slid from Loki’s face and down to his injured arm, where blood still bubbled slowly from the wound to run past his wrist and over his fingers. Then that black gaze turned back to meet Loki’s, and it felt like it was boring right through him. “And what kind of deal might you be looking for?”

There was something in the demon’s voice that Loki didn’t really like– something almost _understanding,_ as if this were the kind of thing the demon had seen a thousand times before. _This_ being the sight of a pitiful creature, on his knees in a pool of his own blood, weakened and helpless and _begging_ for aid.

It wasn’t a thought that sat well in Loki’s mind.

So he forced himself back upright and struggled up onto his feet. It was a trial, but he made it—

And by the time his gaze met the demon’s once more, that pitying smile had already turned into something impressed– an expression that only deepened as Loki spoke in a voice that betrayed no weakness at all.

“I need you to get me out of here,” Loki hissed, gesturing with a bloody hand at the impenetrable walls of his cell.

The demon seemed to be waiting, but when Loki said no more he tilted his head, a touch of further interest entering his gaze. “And nothing more than that?” his eyes shifted again to the blood on Loki’s hands, then to the state of the destroyed room.

Loki was about to reply that escape truly was all that he needed help with, because _yes_ , he was intent on revenge– but he was going to ensure that he delivered that _himself_.

But then… he thought about it. He could include whatever he wanted in the terms, so long as he worded it right– for if the demon agreed, then the price would remain the same regardless.

So, instead of a refusal, he met the demon’s gaze. “If it is agreeable to you, I believe that aiding my escape would include healing me, and ensuring that I am not further injured while I take what is owed to me before leaving.”

 _That_ caused the demon’s eyes to gleam with something akin to _greed_ , and Loki’s gaze was drawn to the demon’s lips as a forked tongue slid between them.

“You know the price for such a transaction?” the demon asked, his voice dropping low.

“I do,” Loki replied. He lifted his chin, a sure show of defiance. Despite his weakened state, he was far from helpless, and even _further_ from ignorant. He knew what he was getting himself into—

But he was already in an endless state of torture, was he not? At least this way… he could drag some of his torturers down with him.

The demon’s gaze darkened further still at the confirmation of Loki’s conviction, and he stepped forward. Loki held still, not letting the creature unnerve him.

“Well, well,” the demon mused, only pausing when they were less than an inch from each other. “Aren’t you an interesting one?”

The demon’s breath was warm on Loki’s skin, raising the hair along the back of his neck—

But Loki… didn’t _mind._

Quite the opposite, actually.

The demon’s touch was soft as he thread a hand through Loki’s hair, his other coming up to stroke a thumb over Loki’s lower lip. Loki allowed his lips to part, and the demon pressed his thumb a little further inside– then his intense gaze slid back to Loki’s, and even through his tiredness Loki realised that he was being _tested._

So, rather than simply standing passive, Loki tilted his head slightly and swiped his tongue over the tip of the demon’s thumb before giving a small suck, drawing the digit into his mouth.

It couldn’t have been particularly pleasurable, as Loki’s mouth was dry from dehydration, but the demon’s black eyes focused on his lips with a touch of hunger.

Loki knew that he should be worried, perhaps even _afraid._ But when the demon slipped his thumb from Loki’s mouth and dove forward to press their lips together, Loki couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than let it happen.

He’d known it was coming, after all.

Demons _always_ seal a deal with a kiss.

But it could have remained chaste– Loki knew from the stories that any kiss would do. But the demon pulled him close, his lips sliding over Loki’s with a particular kind of purpose—

And as one of the demon’s hands slid down over Loki’s spine to grip his ass, Loki’s lips parted in a surprised gasp—

And when that forked tongue flicked against them in response, the gasp turned into a groan. As it slid inside his mouth, Loki realised that it was longer than that of an Aesir, and he couldn’t help pressing his own tongue up against it. The demon moaned and pulled Loki closer, one hand still clutching Loki’s hair but– no longer gentle, and the sharpness of the pain helped to keep Loki on his feet.

Because Loki was already long beyond feeling dizzy, and in the back of his mind he _knew_ it was from the ordeal and the blood loss– but his body told him it was from the way it felt to have the demon pressed against him, his forked tongue plunging further inside Loki’s mouth with yet another heady moan.

It had been so very _long_ since he had last felt the touch of another living thing, and the touch of this demon felt so very, _very_ good.

Loki’s gasps were small and desperate, his whole body responding to every slide of the demon’s hands, every nip of his teeth, every stroke of his tongue. His whole body was shuddering, caught in dizzy ecstasy, his muddled mind only able to interpret the pleasure as something it needed _more_ of—

And despite knowing the dangers, Loki knew that he would be willing to give himself over entirely. He’d already bartered away his soul, and in that moment, there was very little that Loki wouldn’t have done to hold on to those sensations for just a little longer.

When the demon _finally_ let up on his assault of Loki’s mouth, Loki found himself gasping and panting for breath, his hands clenched in the demon’s black shirt. But the demon did not go far. Loki could feel his hot breath as the demon’s swollen lips brushed his skin, eyes closed as he ran his nose first over Loki’s jaw before pressing his mouth to Loki’s throat.

It was closer to a bite than a kiss, but Loki still arched into it– and as his body reacted, he felt evidence of the demon’s interest press hard against the top of his thigh.

The demon’s breath gushed against Loki’s skin, and then those black eyes were once again holding Loki’s gaze.

“We have a deal, Asgardian,” the demon whispered– and as the hand on Loki’s ass began moving in slow but firm strokes, Loki had to fight to keep his eyes open. The touch combined with the sound of the demon’s rough voice and the sight of Loki’s blood on the demon’s cheek was causing Loki’s desire to spike, until he hardly knew anything else. “Usually, I only allow _one_ thing. But for you…” the demon trailed off, his gaze darting from Loki’s eyes to his swollen lips and then back again. “I am making something of an exception.”

Then he pressed his lips to Loki’s again—

And this time, when Loki gasped, it wasn’t because of the kiss– or least, not _only_ because of it.

It felt like his veins were on fire, an explosion of energy coursing through him, starting at his lips before surging throughout the rest of his body. His eyes snapped open, and he tried to pull away—

But the demon held him in place, kept kissing him– ground their hips together with a moan rougher than any yet, a moan that went right to Loki’s cock.

Then Loki moaned as well– and kept doing so as his cock hardened, that burst of energy giving him back the strength—

And _oh,_ but after so long without even a _touch,_ the pressure of another body rutting against his erection had Loki’s newly refreshed body _shuddering,_ nerve endings aflame, his chest heaving, his fingers clutching in the demon’s clothes, his cock aching to be touched—

The demon beat him to it, reaching between them with a snarl pressed against Loki’s lips. He tore at both Loki’s pants and his own, the material ripping before being thrown away without a care—

And then the demon took both of their cocks in his hand, and Loki almost _cried._

The burning heat, the perfect pressure, the exquisite, torturous _friction—_

Loki’s muscles clenched even as he felt like he was going slack, his ability to control any part of himself going straight out of the window. But even though his kiss turned sloppy until he was barely kissing at all, the demon continued to fuck Loki’s mouth with that long tongue, apparently uncaring that Loki could no longer respond with any kind of finesse—

And _oh_ that tongue. It wasn’t just the length– it was the way it flicked, stroked, _curled,_ and Loki’s ass clenched as he imagined that tongue fucking him _properly—_

Loki came with a groan, spilling his release all over the demon’s hand and cock, his hips snapping back and forth as he continued to fuck against the demon’s still swollen erection.

And the demon was still going, his moans a symphony of desire entangled with Loki’s cries. Once Loki was soft and panting, the demon merely let him go and continued to fuck into his hand, and the sight of him using Loki’s cum as lubricant had Loki’s eyes widening—

But the sight of the demon’s expression was even better. His eyes were half-lidded, his lips parted as he threw back his head—

And Loki darted forward to kiss them, unable to help himself– even after coming he _ached_ for that touch. And as he took his turn to thrust his tongue into the demon’s mouth the demon let out gasp– and then Loki felt a hot, wet spurt against his hip, the demon shuddering through his orgasm.

The demon was still breathing heavily when he looked up with a smirk– and Loki had to stop himself from moving closer. Now that he was healed, the only evidence of his ordeal the blood that was starting to dry on his arms and hands, he could think a little more clearly– but that didn’t mean that he didn’t crave _more_ of what he had just experienced.

But, he wasn’t _foolish._

Perhaps, though… there was a way he could work this to his advantage.

As if he knew what was going through Loki’s head, the demon’s smirk widened. He raised his sticky hand to stroke Loki’s face in a gesture that _felt_ possessive, but even as Loki’s eyes narrowed into a glare, he couldn’t help but lean in to the touch.

And the demon _laughed,_ delighted.

“Oh, I was right,” he mused. “I _like_ you.”

Loki bared his teeth, annoyed, but more at himself than anything else– _especially_ at the way he melted and _whined_ when the demon moved forward to kiss him again. Loki parted his lips, hoping to feel the slick swipe of the demon’s tongue—

But to Loki’s aching disappointment, the kiss remained chaste. “Are you ready for this?” The demon crooned against him.

“Yes,” Loki groaned– he wasn’t sure what he was answering, but regardless of whether the demon meant the revenge or something _else_ , Loki knew that he spoke true.

“Are you _sure?”_

And Loki lifted up his chin.

“Yes,” he said. “ _Yes,_ I’m sure.”

“ _Good.”_ The word was a hiss—

Then the demon’s power was running through Loki again, and in moments, they were both clothed.

Loki arched a brow at the prison garb he was in-

And with a small tug at his seiðr, he clothed himself in his favourite leather armour.

The demon’s brows rose, his lips parted—

And then _Loki_ darted forward, gripping the demon’s face between both hands and kissing him brutally, _ruthlessly,_ knowing there was no way of hiding how much it was affecting him but wanting to make sure that it affected the demon just as much.

And when their kiss broke, they were _both_ breathless– something that Loki decided to be smug about.

“If I am for an eternal hell,” Loki breathed, throwing all remaining caution to the wind, “Then I _will_ at least enjoy my fall.”

“Oh, no, I am not going to hand you over to the _racks._ Not at all, not _you.”_ He spoke in a low croon, and when he cupped Loki’s still sensitive cock, Loki groaned pleadingly– though whether he was pleading for it to stop or for _more,_ Loki honestly couldn’t say.

The demon’s eyes were glittering with an aura of danger, but that only drew Loki in more.

“Then what _will_ you do to me?” Loki breathed.

“So many things,” the demon replied. His hand, still on Loki’s cock, began to move in lazy strokes. Loki shuddered, growing hard as the demon continued. He couldn’t help but suspect that the demon was helping the hardness along a little with his power– and _that_ , of course, only made Loki’s arousal spike all the higher. “I’ll kiss you again of course, hard enough to make your lips swell. I’ll stroke you, _suck_ you, drain you of every drop of cum you have to give. I’ll fuck you, first with my fingers, then with my tongue– working you open, stretching you out, _filling_ you until you are clenching around me. Then I’ll fuck you on my cock, slow, fast, soft, hard, anything that makes you moan, until you don’t know anything else, until every moment that you are not being filled by me feels empty and cold.”

The demon’s teeth scraped over Loki’s jaw as he grinned– and Loki was already panting, his hips thrusting forward as he sought friction against the press of the demon’s hand, his cock straining tightly now against his leather pants.

“Oh, _Norns_ ,” Loki groaned—

“Not quite.” The demon sounded so put together that it wasn’t _fair,_ but the sound of his voice had Loki almost already on the edge. “My name… is _Tony.”_

Then their lips came together once more, the kiss stained with the taste of iron and salt—

And even though he had yet to break out of the cell and take his revenge, Loki found that he was happy to stay right where he was for a little longer– and even then, he looked forward more to what would come _after._

He was certainly headed to the deepest, fiery pit—

But _oh,_ he would enjoy the burn.


End file.
